Shattered
by Joules Mer
Summary: A Minefield "what if..." Warning: Major Angst, DEATHFIC. Spoilers for Minefield (you need to have seen that episode for this to make sense). My first fic ever!


Rating/Warning: I'm rating this R just to be safe. Be warned it's a DEATHFIC and has major MINEFIELD SPOILERS. In fact, I think you need to have seen minefield to get this.   
It's also EXTREMELY ANGSTY. 

Author's Note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER so I really don't know what I'm doing. The fact that I wrote it in 1 1/2 hours didn't help. Reviews and constructive criticism are extremely welcome (my e-mail is julia_ocean_child@yahoo.co.uk) I'm rating this R just to be safe. Sorry to the Malcolm fans for this one, but I'm one of you, honest! This just started jumping around my brain after I watched the rescue. After Jon and Malcolm defied the laws of physics (not the ones in my story) I had to write something where it didn't turn out alright. This was just one possibility that my overactive brain came up with.   
P.s. Can you tell I'm not an English major? 

Disclaimer: Enterprise is the sole property of Paramount. I'm just borrowing it for a bit and am making no money whatsoever in doing so so don't sue me. I'm a starving university student anyway so it wouldn't be worth your while. 

Date: October 5, 2002   
  
  
  


Shattered 

His quarters were dark. Porthos whimpered from the basket that he'd been banished to, but Jon couldn't offer any words of reassurance to the animal. He'd been struck completely numb, stunned by the events of the day. A part of himself still couldn't believe what had happened. In his entire career, Jon had never lost someone under his command. There had been some very close calls, mostly involving Trip, but they had all worked out in the end. Every time until now. That realization hit him like a sledgehammer. The guilt had him bent double, retching. First year physics danced through his mind, taunting him. 

F=ma   
d=vt   
Ft=m(v2-v1) 

If I push Malcolm away from me with a certain amount of force and let go after t amount of time, he will acquire a velocity v. Distance is equal to velocity x time. How far away from the mine will he be in 20 seconds? In ten? Not far enough. All my earlier optimism didn't change the fact that Malcolm's leg was wrecked. He couldn't push off from the hull plating himself so I practically threw him. I just didn't push hard enough. Not enough impulse speed per say. 

Malcolm was caught in the blast. It sheared the shuttlepod hatch in two, slicing through the E.V. suit and Malcolm as well. Jon remembered frantically trying to raise Malcolm over the E.V. suit communicator. He knew Malcolm had been closer to the blast than himself but he'd still hoped. It wasn't until he was almost within Enterprise's docking bay that he'd spun around to a position where he could see Malcolm. In that moment he remembered Malcolm's words, "I'd prefer a burial at sea...If I'm not completely vaporized." Jon was ashamed to admit that he'd been unable go over to Malcolm after they were inside. Trip had rushed into the bay, closely followed by Phlox and T'Pol. It was Trip that had gone to Malcolm's side and rolled him over, revealing the horrible gash in the E.V. suit. It had been Trip who had removed Malcolm's helmet and closed his eyes. 

The last few seconds before the explosion played themselves over and over in his mind. Having Malcolm in his grasp, lifting him up so that his feet didn't reach the hull plating. He'd extended his arms, pushing Malcolm away. 

Length of arms: about 60 cm   
So he'd pushed Malcolm for about half a meter, which with the E.V. suit took about a second, maybe more.   
He'd pushed *fairly* hard, hadn't he?   
Therefore Malcolm's velocity after he let go: less than 1 m/s 

LESS THAN 1m/s...Not fast enough...I didn't push hard enough. I DIDN'T PUSH HARD ENOUGH. 

He remembered drifting away from the mine. Passing Malcolm as he drifted away from the mine. He retched again, Porthos whimpered. He remembered Malcolm at breakfast, he'd seemed rather nervous. He remembered how much he wanted...had wanted to get to know Malcolm. Malcolm had been impossibly brave, even joking about the possible amputation of his leg. Malcolm had been willing to sacrifice himself for the good of Enterprise. 

"Captain, those heroics we spoke about. I think it may be time." But he wouldn't, or couldn't, let that happen. Jonathan Archer never gave up. 'But you gave up in the docking bay' an inner voice nagged, 'Trip checked him, tried to revive him.' "That was different," he told the voice, "then it was hopeless." 

Maybe if he was the detached captain Malcolm admired it wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe if he was that captain Malcolm would have gently suffocated rather than being slashed almost in two. 

He knew the captain should be a stoic presence on the bridge. He knew as captain he should contact Admiral Forrest. Instead Jonathan Archer sat in his quarters and damned himself, and then damned the inventor of the sub-detonator. A man who in all likelihood shared Malcolm Reed's admiration for explosions. It was as ironic as the story of Malcolm's great uncle. Silently, Jonathan Archer began to cry.   


A/N: SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY. It just happened, honest! If it's too horrible my first fic can be my last.   
p.s.- I had to resort to (v2-v1) ff.net doesn't seem to like "delta"s LOL (grrr formatting, the bane of my existence)   



End file.
